The Most Interesting Adventures of Maeluiwen
by Jen Littlebottom
Summary: Introducing The Most Interesting Adventures of Maeluiwen, Warrior Princess, a Story of Some Small Merit, But Which May be of Interest to Certain Persons. Concerning a Most Tragic Romance and also Some Boobies.
1. Chapter 1 In Which We Meet Maeluiwen

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this, except Maeluiwen, in all her *ahem* 'ample' glory.  
  
Elrond clasped his hands together, sitting at the head of the table wearing 'Thoughtful yet Stern Expression #43'.  
"There was a time when I thought there could be no-one more unsuitable for my daughter than Estel. It appears I have been proved wrong."  
  
Aragorn took a few seconds to work this one out. "Hey!"  
  
"Shut up, Estel."  
  
The future King of Gondor sulked. "I do not understand all of this. What could Maeluiwen offer Arwen that I can not?"  
  
There was a snicker from the general direction of Glorfindel. Elrond and Aragorn both glared at him.  
  
"What? It would be inappropriate for me to comment on Maeluiwen's more, ah, prominent assets. Or to refer to certain recent events, although I am sure that the naked frolicking in question was completely innocent."  
  
"You're still having those woodcuts made up, right?" whispered Lindir, leaning over.  
  
"Ahem."  
  
All eyes turned back to Elrond. If looks could kill, Glorfindel would have been Elf-Flavour Balrog Treats all over again. Aragorn was trying to imitate the Elven Death Glare, but due to lack of six thousand years or so of practice, just looked like he was squinting.  
  
"If we could get back to the subject at hand, please." said Elrond. "It is necessary that we find something to keep Maeluiwen away from my daughter. There is only so long we can fob her off with Erestor, after all, even if we did get him to wear a dress."  
  
From somewhere in Imladris came an ear-piercing scream. Several of those in the room winced.   
  
"Bzzz. Time's up."  
  
"Shut up, Glorfindel."  
  
"We now have only one choice," continued Elrond, bravely ignoring the fact that his advisor and his foster child were making faces at each other across the table. "Maeluiwen must join the fellowship. Kick her down the first bottomless abyss you come to, if at all possible."  
  
Aragorn nodded. "And if not, well, there's always my sword."  
"Or my bow." added Legolas.  
They turned to Gimli.  
  
"Wait a minute! That Erestor-thing's male?"  
  
-----  
  
Two delicate forms embraced upon a bridge, conveniently placed in front of a romantic waterfall. The one had hair like unto a raven waterfall, the other, flame-coloured curls streaked with silver to match her mithril-hued eyes.  
  
"Do not weep, my fair one. For I go to save all Middle-earth, and I will return. And while I'm at it, I might even get Aragorn to take a bath."  
  
"Your dangers will be many, but your cause is true. I would offer you this," Arwen held up the Evenstar "but I fear it does not match your outfit. Instead, perhaps a kiss would suffice?"  
  
"Indeed," replied Maeluiwen, "But although I fear death not, I will admit to disliking splinters muchly. Perhaps we should move to somewhere more comfortable?"  
  
Both gasped when, in the gardens of Imladris, there became apparent a space upon the soft grass, surrounded by hundreds of flickering candles. Arwen thought Maeluiwen had arranged it. Maeluiwen thought Arwen had arranged it.  
  
The real culprit was currently wedged half-way up a tree clutching his sketchbook.  
"About bloody time." he muttered. "I thought they'd never get off that bridge, and the light over there is terrible. But between the money I'll make off this, and the money I'll get from suing Arwen for stealing my horse, I should be able to get an early booking to Valinor. There's no way I'm sharing a boat with Elrond. I hear he gets sea-sick."  
  
"Ah, Undomiel! Truly you are well named, for your beauty is more radiant than the stars themselves!"  
  
"And you too, Maeluiwen, are well named, for…" Arwen giggled. "Well, you know, because."  
  
They kissed, falling to the ground as they undressed each other. This was a rather noisy business, given Maeluiwen's penchant for mithril underwear, as well as her tendency to carry around more weaponry than an Uruk with 'size issues'.  
  
Up in the tree, Glorfindel merrily sketched away, dreaming of his own house in Alqualondë, one with lots of soundproofing.  
  
Right then, a lot of things happened at once.  
  
From one side, Elrond strode in, yelling in Sindarin and waving Aeglos, retrieved specially from the Imladris armoury, in a vaguely threatening manner. Aragorn followed him, mostly yelling variants on 'Yeah! What he said!'.  
  
From the other side, the hobbits, who had defied all efforts to keep them in their rooms and out of trouble, including but not limited to tying them up, locking them in the rooms, locking them in the rooms with large amounts of food, and drugging them, (Hey, this Elvish stuff's not bad! Doesn't compare to the Old Toby, but then again, what does?), had wandered in on this scene, proving once more the existence of their dual ability for A) Wrong Place, and B) Wrong Time. They mostly stared, although Merry had attempted to shield Pippin's eyes and got a kick in the ankle for his troubles.  
  
Somewhere in Imladris, Erestor woke up screaming and had to be sedated. That really has no bearing on the plot whatsoever.  
  
Then Legolas walked in, apparently trying to find out what all the noise was about. He was not wearing a shirt.  
  
It was at this point that Lindir, having decided to climb up Glorfindel's tree to take a look at the draft sketches (really, he was getting a bit obsessed), and managed to snap the branch, causing two Elves to topple ungracefully into the middle of it all, pages of sketches flying everywhere.  
  
One of them landed at Elrond's feet.  
  
In a probably futile attempt to retain a little dignity, gentle reader, we shall pull a curtain over the remainder of this scene. Preferably one with lots of sound-proofing.  
  
A/N: Legolas not wearing a shirt is from 'How to Write a Story Everyone Will Read ', by Artemis. 


	2. Chapter 2 In Which There is A Balrog

Disclaimer: See first chapter.  
  
The Fellowship stared at the Balrog. Then at Maeluiwen. Then at the Balrog. Pippin fumbled for something from his pack, which turned out to be a sketchbook.  
"Pip, what are you doing?"  
Pip mumbled something under his breath, only the words 'Glorfindel' and 'Commission' audible.  
  
Meanwhile, Gandalf's expression had moved from bewilderment, through recognition, and now to anger. He drew out Glamdring, and pointing it at Maeluiwen, he yelled, "Get away from my little sister, you bitch!".  
  
He leapt. Maeluiwen ducked. Mithrandir and the Balrog teetered back and forth, comically, at the edge of the bridge, and then fell. The fellowship rushed to the cliff-edge, and listened.  
  
"What the hell did you think you were doing, young lady?"  
  
"I'm not a baby anymore! Just because I'm the youngest, you think you can boss me around!"  
  
"Well maybe if you didn't have such bloody terrible taste. Remember Durin?"  
  
"This is different. Our love is pure and true."  
  
"Yeah, right."  
  
"Oh, that's it! I am so telling Daddy on you, Olorin…"  
  
The rest was silence.  
  
-----  
  
As they got closer and closer to Lorien, Aragorn was getting more and more nervous.  
  
Legolas was not making things easier by sticking to his principles.  
  
"But why can't you just shoot her?"  
  
"In the back?" Legolas looked offended. "Elves do not shoot people in the back, Aragorn. Do your own dirty work."  
  
"I've tried that." whined Aragorn. "She dodges. You're the only one who could manage to get a shot away that fast. Please? It's my only chance to win back Arwen!"  
  
Legolas grinned. "If I was you, I wouldn't be worried about Arwen. I'd be worried about the fact that you're about to take Maeluiwen straight into the arms of your future Grandmother-in-law."  
  
He watched Aragorn's face turn an interesting shade of puce. The rest of the fellowship were resting, or supposed to be; Boromir and Gimli were discussing which of them liked Elves the least, while the hobbits took turns playing what they were claiming was a Traditional Hobbit Game, 'Trying to Throw Nuts into Maeluiwen's Cleavage'. So far the scores appeared to be Merry: Eight and a Half (one having bounced out again), showing evidence of prior experience with this game, Pippin: Five, somewhat hindered by the large amount of tweenie drool, Sam: Two, his attention only half on the game, mostly because of Frodo: None, too busy muttering to himself to play.  
  
Maeluiwen herself was 'meditating'. Meditation appeared to consist mostly of humming in a manner that made her breasts vibrate in their mithril corset in a rather disturbing way. Merry and Pippin were arguing about whether or not this should affect the scoring.  
  
Aragorn and Legolas's conversation on the ethics of assassination continued.  
  
"Please, Legolas?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Pleeeease?"  
  
"No, Aragorn."  
  
"Pwetty Please with a bottle of Elrond's best Miruvor on top?"  
  
"Now that's just offensive. The Mirkwood Guide to Bribery clearly states a six bottle minimum for a task of this nature, with at least half-payment up front. So unless you've got three bottles on your smelly person, you cheapskate, forget it."  
  
"Fine." Aragorn sulked. "We'll just go onto Lorien, then. If I get into trouble with Celeborn, it'll be all your fault. You are so not invited to my coronation."  
  
"That's a little premature, don't you think? Then again, I have heard that is a common problem among Men…"  
  
"Shut up, Legolas."  
  
-----  
  
Eventually, they managed to get on the move again. Legolas, walking behind Maeluiwen, was becoming increasingly more irritated with the repetitive jingle of her outfit. He was almost reaching for his knives, and ready to forget all about the Guide, when the voice of one of the Galadhrim rang out.  
  
"Who are they, and what do they say?" asked Merry.  
"They are Elves, and they say that you breathe so loudly they could shoot you in the dark." Legolas replied. He listened a bit more. "With one arm tied behind their backs." Another pause. "And standing on one leg."  
  
He yelled something back - this was not translated, but even the Hobbits could recognise the tone. "Yeah, right, asshole." is somewhat universal.  
  
Soon several Elves emerged out of the trees.  
"Haldir o Lorien" said Aragorn, bowing.  
"Hello, Estel. Elrond chuck you out of Imladris again? Right, we got two men, one Elf, one Dwarf, four Halflings, and one bint. You'll need to fill out this form, and this, and these here. Duty Free allowances are 3 quarts wine, 1 quart miruvor, 1 pound pipeweed, for personal use only. Due to recently imposed trade embargoes, only officially sanctioned Galadriel Brand lembas may now be brought in or out of Lorien."  
  
Aragorn listened to this oft-rattled off speech dispassionately, then handed Haldir a small bag of something that went 'clink.'  
  
"Or I could just fill these in for you. Step right this way, folks, and thank you for visiting Lorien."  
  
Sam paused as they filed past. "Excuse me, Mr Elf, sir."  
  
"Yes?" asked Haldir  
  
"I was wondering, that is, if you don't ask me minding, Sir, that is, if it's no problem…"  
  
"Just spit it out, would you?"  
  
"It's just… why aren't any of you wearing shirts?"  
  
-----  
  
The meeting with Galadriel and Celeborn went about as well as could be expected. Maeluiwen jiggled, Galadriel and her handmaidens smirked and giggled, and Celeborn looked furious. How they managed to extricate themselves from the situation without serious harm being done to anyone was still a matter of debate.  
  
The Elves sang laments to Gandalf, ancient songs originally composed for three kettle drums and a xylophone. Legolas would not interpret them, except to say that he felt that 'A Wizards Staff Has a Knob on the End" was not particularly appropriate, no matter how well they claimed to have known him.  
  
It was also Legolas who noticed that Maeluiwen had disappeared.  
  
"Uh.." said Merry  
"..Oh" finished Pippin.   
"Aragorn's gonna be in trouble!" they chorused.  
  
"Shut up, Hobbits. We can fix this. All I need is half a bottle of kerosene and some duct-tape…"  
Aragorn's plotting was interrupted by the looming shadow of Celeborn.  
  
"Estel." he said, his tone dark.  
  
"Oh, hello, uh, Grandpa?" said Aragorn, hopefully.  
  
Celeborn raised an eyebrow. "I have no wish to see blood spilled in Lorien. But if you do not get that thing out of my forest and away from my wife before dawn, you will not live to be King. Do I make myself quite clear?"  
  
Aragorn nodded meekly.  
  
"Good." He strode off. Legolas and Gimli sniggered.  
  
"Oh, shut up, all of you."  
  
-----  
  
In a talan draped, for some reason, with fine silks, a scene was unfolding, of the type that Glorfindel would probably be upset he wasn't there to witness, or at least sell tickets to.  
  
"My fairest Lady, your beauty shines brighter than the sun, more glorious than the moon, more delicate than the touch of starlight upon the elanor. I can totally see where your granddaughter gets it from."  
"Rest here, Maeluiwen, and allow me to comfort you. For you are surely weary with sorrow and much toil."  
  
The remainder consisted mostly of giggling, jiggling, and the jingle of mithril undergarments. Luckily for Aragorn, however, telain tend to be open-plan; Samwise proved his worth that day by demonstrating his skill at the hobbit art of Rodeo; a loop of Elvish rope went around Maeluiwen's foot, and Boromir, Aragorn, and Gimli took hold and pulled.  
  
The result was rather spectacular, even if it did end up exposing more of Maeluiwen then any of them really wanted to see. A shower of metal lingerie accompanied her fall. Bruised, half-naked, and angrier than a rabid mongoose, their unwilling companion (even if most of the unwillingness was on the rest of the Fellowship's behalf), hung by one ankle from the tallest branch they'd been able to find.  
  
Legolas did make them cut her down eventually, though. Spoilsport.  
  
-----  
  
"Aragorn, no."  
  
"But…"  
  
"No. Not while she's in the same boat as Frodo." Legolas shook his head. "Honestly. Think, would you? Besides, she can probably swim. What's got you in such a state?"  
  
"Did you see the gift she received from Galadriel?" asked Aragorn. "I'm a dead man."  
  
"Hmmph." said Legolas. "Red satin and lace, not very classy, in my opinion. I've always preferred classic white, myself. My mother runs a little business on the side… Gwalothiel's Secret. I'm sure you've seen the brochures."  
  
Merry and Pippin, listening in on this conversation from the boat they were sharing with Boromir, nodded happily. Merry in fact had every Gwalothiel's Secret catalogue published for the last twenty years, and had once tried to sell his sister to Bill Ferny in exchange for one of their calendars.  
  
"I'm doomed." moaned Aragorn.  
  
"…so anyway, two of my sisters both wanted to be Miss Rhîw, and it was just causing so much strife… sorry, did you say something?"  
  
"Never mind."  
  
Maeluiwen, meanwhile, fingered Galadriel's gift with a little smile on her face, hummed, and jiggled.  
  
A/N: Shirtless Haldir. Don't tell me I never did anything for you. 


	3. Chapter 3 In Which Grima Does A Good Thi...

Disclaimer: I do not own this. What is more, I am deeply, deeply, sorry for doing this to these poor characters. Except Maeluiwen, who is mine and deserves everything she gets.  
  
The Four Hunters moved swiftly over the plains of Rohan. Maeluiwen had decided that there should be 'no hard feelings' between her and Aragorn, and thus was explaining to him, at great length, her theories on sexual equality.  
  
Gimli frowned. "Why haven't you killed her yet?"  
"Why should I?" said Legolas "She's useful. Good fighter, does that whole magic-thingy, her nipples glow blue when orcs are about... as long as I don't look directly at the hair, I can tolerate her. Besides, watching Aragorn suffer is fun."  
"Agreed. Although I could do without the singing."  
"And the metal underwear."  
"Now, now, Master Elf. That's traditional Dwarf-wear, that is. Good quality mithril too. When you eventually get round to killing her, I bags salvage rights."  
Legolas nodded. "Fair 'nough. By Eru, this scenery is boring. Grass, rocks. Grass, rocks. Oh, and more grass."  
"Which is different from trees, trees, and more trees, how?"  
"I do not intend to dignify that with an answer."  
  
-----  
  
"I think this is what we call a diplomatic incident."  
  
"Really?" asked Gandalf. "In the old days we would call that a floor show."  
  
Aragorn pouted. "Legolas, do something!"  
  
"Six bottle minimum, half up front. Else do it yourself."  
  
As Eowyn, being of a similar mindset to Maeluiwen, also carried a great deal of weaponry on her person, there was a certain amount of clumsiness and clanking going on. This didn't seem to be hindering the enjoyment of either the two main participants, or the majority of the spectators, with the exception of Eomer, who had turned a brighter red than Maeluiwen's hair, and Grima, who seemed torn between drooling and fuming.  
  
Finally Theoden snapped out of whatever trance he was in.  
  
"Eowyn, go to your room. Take your little friend, and don't come out until the war's over."  
  
"But Uncle Theoden! You can't let her…"  
"Shut up, Eomer"  
  
-----  
  
Eowyn's room was littered with heaps of discarded weaponry and the obligatory mithril undergarments, but coincidentally, there was a clear line of sight from the bed to a nearby open window.  
  
If either Eowyn or Maeluiwen had been paying any attention to their surroundings (and I shall leave you, gentle reader, to imagine what else may have been occupying their attention), then this is what they might have heard:  
  
"Mutter, mutter… Why does everyone dislike me? Just because I'm evil. And also not so much with the personal hygiene, but Aragorn's not exactly in a position to talk. Mutter, scheme, mutter, plot…"  
  
It was, indeed, the intrepid Grima, who had crept back into Edoras while Theoden and Aragorn were arguing about which one of them was more kingly. He'd also laid his hands on a blowgun and a set of darts tipped with Ye Olde Poisonous Poison, one of Gandalf's little side endeavours when the fireworks market was a bit sluggish.  
  
It was also coincidental, but entirely convenient, that Maeluiwen's back was turned to the window. Grima may have been a scumbag, a low down, dirty, rotten, peverted traitor, and so on and so forth, but he was also a damn good shot.  
  
One dart flew directly to target - one of Maeluiwen's overly-pert buttocks, the one with the unusual birthmark in the shape of a mallorn leaf - and Grima slipped back out of the city, considering his work well done.  
  
Ye Olde Poisonous Poison is both fast acting, and relatively painful. Maeluiwen's shrieks of agony quickly brought half of Edoras to the room, if not to her aid.  
  
"Well, that was… interesting."  
"Hmm. Bags her underwear."  
"Like anyone else would want it, Gimli."  
  
Eowyn, after a brief but intense mourning period lasting all of five minutes, pulled on her riding clothes, her helmet, and her sword.  
  
"That's it. I'm going to war, and you can't stop me!"  
  
By this point, though, nobody really gave a damn.  
  
------  
  
Epilogue One:  
  
Maeluiwen's corpse was disposed of by one of the local townsfolk, an old woman who buried it in her garden. She subsequently reaped a harvest of multi-coloured, hallucinogenic tomatoes, which she sold on the black market for a fortune, and then retired to a wee cottage on the coast by Dol Amroth.  
  
Eowyn fought bravely in the War of the Ring, and found new love in the form of the valiant Faramir. They married soon afterwards, although he still can't work out why she keeps suggesting he grow his hair long.  
  
Galadriel never recovered from the traumatic 'talan incident', and left for Valinor at the end of the war. Celeborn chose to stay, after realising he couldn't continue to threaten Aragorn from that far away.  
  
Gandalf and the Balrog still aren't talking to each other.  
  
Arwen married Aragorn Elessar Telcontar, he of many names, and they lived happily ever after.  
  
He still won't let her call one of their daughters 'Maeluiwen'.  
  
And Glorfindel?  
  
-----  
  
Epilogue Two:  
  
Elrond dumped two packages in front of Glorfindel.  
"One from young Pippin, one from Mirk.. I mean, Eryn Lasgalen. Anything interesting?"  
  
"No, of course not." Glorfindel snuck a peep at the thick envelope Pippin had left him, and raised an eyebrow. Right, that'd go to Cirdan, then. He was into all that wacky stuff.  
  
"Fine then, don't tell me." Elrond flounced out, only turning back at the door to say.  
  
"And for Eru's sake, put a shirt on. It's making me cold just looking at you."  
  
Glorfindel did not put a shirt on. But when Elrond was safely gone he began to carefully unwrap the second package. Beneath the plain brown wrapping, was a large box labelled 'Gwalothiel's Secret'.   
  
Glorfindel grinned. "Oh, Erestor…"  
  
And the rest, as they say…  
  
The End…. Or Is It? 


	4. Chapter 4 Maeluiwen Goes to Mandos

Disclaimer:  I do not own the world of Middle-earth, although I will accept responsibility for Maeluiwen.  (Grudgingly)

The Halls of Mandos are long, wide, and high, stretching on into eternity.  None who enter here can remain unchanged; the very air reeks of awe.

There tends to be a bit of an echo, so keep your voice down.  And when Nienna visits, expect the entire place to be ankle-deep in tears.  Other than that, it's not too bad a place to spend eternity.

Today, however (and 'day' is a relative term, here in Mandos), there was a definite disturbance.  Namely, the enraged screech of a Vala, echoing through the Halls and making the Elven residents cringe and cover their ears.

Any good resident of Mandos knows that you do not piss off Námo, unless you wish to be reincarnated with rabbit ears.  Thus it was from behind elegantly fluted columns and various pieces of furniture that they watched the Lord of Mandos pace in front of the doors to Nienna's quarters, using more swear-words per sentence than Aragorn has names.

"Nienna!  Open that [censored] door right now, or I'll [censored].  I'm going to rip that [censored] a new [censored]."

After a pause, the door opened and a half-naked Valier leaned out, pouting.

"Don't you want me to be happy?  I've been crying for ten thousand years straight – I think I deserve a break.  And it's not like I have anyone else…"

"Well, if you hadn't dumped Ulmo for that [censored] Melkor, perhaps you would have."

Nienna sniffled.  "Ulmo's boring.  All the rest of the Valar were either taken, or related to me, and Melkor has his good points!  And now that Daddy's gone and locked him out in the Void, and it's _not fair!_"

Námo rolled his eyes and ripped the door of the hinges, storming into the rooms.  Shortly afterwards, Maeluiwen came running out.

Maeluiwen had given the admin staff of Mandos some problems.  Certainly it was clear she was not a dwarf, hobbit or orc.  Neither did she appear to be of the race of Men, or or those of Elves.  Her claims to being a Faerie (half), did not help matters.  So when Nienna had wandered through and Maeluiwen had decided she needed 'comforting', they had shrugged and let them go off together, figuring it would be less paperwork.

Now, however, the Halls looked to in danger from more than just piles of paperwork.  Námo had once accidentally created an interesting portal which had taken him to meet a nice fellow called Zeus, who had taught him how to throw lightening bolts.  However, he'd never _quite_ got the hang of aiming them, particularly when angry.  Luckily for the local residents, the flash-flood of tears Nienna was wailing as her 'lady-friend' was chased through Mandos put out most of the fires.

"Oh, crud." said one, hanging onto a table-top as another wave crashed through.  "She's headed for the Fëanorian sector."

Behind them, a swathe of destruction lay.  The walls between the Dwarven and Elven areas had been demolished, and there was a minor war going on.  Between that and the Hobbits running everywhere, (Dead Hobbits do not need to eat.  However, nobody had explained this to their satisfaction, and so furniture, items of clothing, and people's ankles were at constant risk.) Mandos looked to be in real trouble.  The Orcs were huddling in one corner, looking scared.  This is never a good sign.

Maeluiwen rushed into the Fëanorian sector, bouncing merrily, only to find she appeared to be at a dead end.

"Psst…"

She looked up to see a tall Elf grinning at her.  "Over here!"  He indicated a portal.

"Uh, thanks… uh…"

"Don't mention it."  He shoved her through, watching as the portal closed, and then went back to looking innocent.

Gods tend to be harder to fool than that, though.

"Fëanor?"

"Yes, Námo?"

"You wouldn't happen to have seen a female-shaped thing run in here a few minutes ago, would you?"

"Nope.  Sorry."

Námo glared.  "Not even if I mentioned she was carrying a Silmaril?"

"Why that… wait a minute.  Oh, no.  I'm not falling for that one again."  With that, Fëanor sat down, sulking, and would not speak another word.

"Oh, [censored]." said Námo.

-----

Vairë put the finishing touches to her newest tapestry, stepped back, and smiled at it.  Ah, nothing like weaving to calm a Lady down after a stressful day.  The fact that she'd long since had flood-gates installed outside her quarters and made sure her doors were lightening, fire, dwarf and Elf-proof might have had something to do with it, as well.

And her husband should be turning up about…

"[censored]!".

Now.

"[censored], [censored]." he mumbled.

"Don't worry, dear." she said.  "I had the admin staff burn the paperwork.  Nobody needs to know she was here."

Námo looked up, tears glimmering at the corners of his eyes.  "It's the _principle_ of the thing, Vairë.  Nobody leaves Mandos without my express permission."

"Now, now, it'll be all right.  Is there anything I could do to help?"

"Convince Fëanor to put some clothes on?  Quite frankly, I didn't need to see that.  And you're the only one who seems to be able to deal with him."

"Fetch me some new thread – I'm out of flesh tones – and it's a deal."  She kissed him lightly and then skipped out the door.

Námo looked at the new tapestry – depicting two goddess-like forms involved in what might have been wrestling, if it wasn't for the bananas – and shuddered.  He needed a holiday.  The Void was supposed to be lovely this time of year, and perhaps he could talk to Melkor about getting back together with his little sister.  The weekly floods were getting tiring, and quite frankly, anything was preferable to having that _thing_ back in Mandos again.

Idly, he wondered where she'd ended up.  Oh well, it wasn't his problem anymore.

-----

And somewhere in Middle-Earth, a portal opened up with an flash of light, and Maeluiwen fell down to earth with a thump.

She's back…

A/N: I really, really, really shouldn't have done this.  I'd like to apologise to the Valar, the residents of Mandos, and Fëanor.

Anyone who spots where I got the Faerie (half) joke from gets a cookie for being a fellow nerd.


	5. Chapter 5 A Very Important Quest and Kin...

Disclaimer: All belongs to Tolkien.  A debt of gratitude is owed to Miss Cam, whose stories of OFUM and MUSM have inspired the characterisation of Morgoth, as well as making me laugh out loud on many occasions.

On with the story!

But first, a note from Morgoth:

_ATTENTION, PUNY MORTALS!  Hah.  Just like to see you jump.  This is Morgoth, supreme overlord of the world – or at least, I will be once I get out of this stupid Void.  Just biding my time.  It has been brought to the attention of one of my Minions, Jen Littlebottom, that a certain Aislynn Crowdaughter has noted that there may be some factual errors in this story.  Namely, that Maeluiwen is currently a bodiless spirit, and thus unable to do any harm (or molest greet any canon characters with her usual enthusiasm).  Obviously, the normal course of action would be a smiting, but given that Jen would prefer it if I didn't kill any of her reviewers, there remains one other option._

_I have now returned Maeluiwen's body to her (Suck on that, Manwë!).  Because frankly, there needs to be more evil in the world, and Orcs and Balrogs just aren't cutting it any more.  Besides, watching that she-beast wreck havoc is almost as much fun as cursing Hurin's brats._

_Yours Evilly,_

_Morgoth__, Dark Lord._

_p.s__. Give Nieni-poos my love._

All right, where were we?  Oh, yes…

Eldarion woke up when he heard the thump.  Growing up with umpteen sisters made you a light sleeper, or at least it did if you didn't want to wake up with pink ribbons in your hair.  There was a lot of giggling coming from the communal parlour his sisters shared.  This was usually a hint that they were planning some sort of prank, usually involving him, if it didn't involve Uncle Legolas' clothing.

As he crept up to the door, he realised this wasn't the usual sort of giggling.  It was more… breathy?  And there seemed to be some jingling going on as well.  The door was unlocked, so he decided he might as well just open it and see what…

Oh.  Dear.  Eru…

"Father!  Mother!"

Seven beautiful young women with their mother's dark hair and Elvish grace, looked up.  "Eldarion!"

In the face of sisterly wrath, there was only one thing a prince could do.  Eldarion ran for it.  Maeluiwen, who was a little slow on the uptake, got left behind.

While Eldarion was busy being chased around Minas Tirith by his sisters, Maeluiwen set off to find further companionship.  Whether it was chance, or some fiendish ability to find trouble wherever it lurked, she ended up headed towards the healers quarters.

-----

"No."

Ioreth let out a sigh.  She really needed to retire.

"Elessar, take off your shirt." What was left of it, that was.  "I need to put ointment on those scratches of yours."

The King of the Reunited Kingdoms crossed his arms and pouted.  "Only Arwen is allowed to see my Kingly Nipples."

There was a snigger from the corner of the room where Faramir waited for his turn, a bruise forming on his cheek.

"Faramir, would you like to go first then?"

"Sure."  He stepped forward, pulling his shirt off and stuck his tongue out at Aragorn.  "I'm not _afraid."_

"That's just because you don't have Kingly Nipples.  And you're just sore because you lost, anyway."

Faramir frowned, wincing as Ioreth poked a wound with a little more force than was strictly necessary.  "I did not lose.  You kept changing all the rules."

"I'm allowed to change the rules.  I'm King."

"Not in the middle of the game!"

Ioreth interrupted before things could get out of hand.  "What game was this, then?"

"Snap.  It's a Hobbit game.  With cards."

"And with Special King Rules." Aragorn smirked.

"More like Stupid King Rules." replied Faramir, pouting.

Further argument was stalled by the door swinging open, Maeluiwen bouncing into the room.  From somewhere she'd managed to acquire more of her famous mithril underwear, and was jingling like an Éored of Rohirrim in full armour.  She saw Ioreth, and leaped.  Faramir stared.  Aragorn groaned.

"Oh no, not again."

-----

"A quest?"

Aragorn and Faramir exchanged Looks.  They'd silently agreed to cooperate on this one matter.  They needed to get Maeluiwen out of the city before Arwen and Éowyn got back from shopping.

"Uh, yes.  A very important quest.  A quest to find the, uh…" Aragorn looked around helplessly, waving his hands vaguely.

"The, uh…" Faramir turned in panic, and scanned the bookshelves behind Aragorn's desk.  "The Entwives!"

"Yes!" Aragorn recovered quickly, and sat back down.  "I mean, that is correct.  The Entwives.  Probably to be found somewhere very, very…"

"…very, very, very…" said Faramir.

"…very far away." finished Aragorn.  "And you may have _this…" he picked up a random object from the clutter among the desk. "This magical crystal to help you on your way."_

"Ooh.  Shiny." said Maeluiwen.  "What do I get as a reward?"

"A reward?"

"If I find the Entwives."

Aragorn hadn't counted on that one.  He paused.

"I believe the hand of your daughter in marriage is traditional, eh Aragorn?" said Faramir, smirking.

Aragorn growled, but noting the way Maeluiwen's eyes lit up at the offer.  "Er, yes.  The hand of my daughter in marriage."

"Do I get to pick which one?"

Faramir looked out the window.  "Aragorn!  They're coming!"

"You can have all of them if you like." said Aragorn, hurriedly, "As long as you leave _right now.  This instant.  Very important quest, needs to be done right away."  He ushered a confused looking Maeluiwen out of the door._

"Aragorn?  We're home…"

And not a moment to soon, either, for no sooner had Maeluiwen been shoved out the door and down the stairs (not _too _gently, either), then Arwen and Éowyn burst in through the door, weighed down with shopping bags.

"Why is Eldarion tied to the fountain in the main courtyard wearing nothing but a pair of pink bloomers?"

Aragorn sighed.  "Isn't it your turn to talk to the girls?"

"That's funny…" said Éowyn.  "The paperweight I gave you two for your anniversary is gone."

"Oh no!" cried Arwen, Eldarion's pink bloomers forgotten.  "I loved that paperweight."

Éowyn nodded.  "I chipped it off the walls of Aglarond while Gimli wasn't looking."

"I shall start interrogating the maids _immediately."  Arwen swept out the door, Éowyn following._

"Oh dear." said Aragorn faintly.  "I think I need to sit down."

"You are sitting down." pointed out Faramir.

"Shut up, Faramir."

-----

Outside Minas Tirith, Maeluiwen hugged her 'magic crystal' to her chest, and picked a random direction to walk in.

"A questing we shall go, a questing we shall go… hi ho a merry o, a questing we shall go…"

After all, whichever direction she chose to walk in would be the correct one, surely?

A further note from Morgoth:

_Mwahahahahaha__…. made you look._

_p.s__. I am not wearing a shirt._

A/N:  Thank you to all the lovely reviewers who have encouraged this madness to continue.  I would just like to say one thing: This is all your fault.

For your education:  Maeluiwen means 'Lusty Maiden', in Sindarin.  It's as close as I could get to 'Wench'.  The Faerie(half) joke is from Elf Only Inn (), and refers to the lovely M'Lady (full name: Lady Sunset Autumn Honey Purity Sunflower Rainbow) who is a Star Elf and also a vampire (half).  You might want to check it out, it's a very funny comic.


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